Fowl
by The Tantalus Complex
Summary: Detective Short of the LEP solves homicide cases of Haven. But when she has a writer shadow assigned to her, her job just gets even tougher. Now if that shadow happened to be someone who she hadn't talked to or kissed in 2 and a half years.....
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl or any associated characters.

It had been 3 years since last Opal fiasco with the core project, and with their being 2 specials about Holly on TV, her new detective business was booming. Fairies from all over Haven would come and seek her services. About 1 year in, she got a little tired of the tracking down puppies and became a homicide detective, moving into serious crimes. It was cases like these where she had to report herself to the LEP about any serious leads she made, and it was almost like working under them again. Fortunately, Vinyàya came to the rescue. She arranged a whole division for Short's cases, part of which would have Foaly as the consultant analyst/technology supplier/ morgue specialist. Mulch and Holly would take all the risks, checking out potential crime scenes and fighting down the murderer. The bad news was that she was LEP again and should Sool feel the need to poke his cane into her cases, he was legally entitled to as her superior. The good news was that Vinyàya usually did such tasks, and that being back as part of the LEP, she could carry her gun again. Artemis Fowl usually was involved as a consultant, helping her with the tough cases to find clues, but never in person. He was always on phone call, unavailable to visit the people, even after saving them for the third time. Detective Short would never admit it, but she missed him deeply. Artemis always managed to add such fun into her life.

Time passed, and Detective Short of the LEP became a legend in the field, solving each and every case that came her way. Her calls to Artemis became less and less, until the last time they had talked was a year and a half ago. He was 17 now, and he had a life that she had no clue what happened in. He stopped wearing suits at the age of 15, seeing as most of them tended to get ripped or destroyed while in the hospitality of the People. Nowadays, he wore black slacks, a dress shirt, and a sports jacket. No tie, nor slicked back hair, Mud woman on the surface everywhere were after his looks and his money. This was a painful blow to him, as it soon seemed that only Detective Short and Butler truly knew him anymore. He slowly faded into normal life, drowning in the pretense of the average mortal who had an average life, job, house…until he had an idea.

_Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047_

"Detective Short, report," The illustrious figure of Commander Vinyàya boomed through the small department. It wasn't large, but she liked it that way.

"Commander Vinyàya, ma'am. The murderer was Thomason, he had the motive, the means, and his alibi doesn't check out--" Detective Short was cut short, excusing the pun

"Detective, I did not call you here for your case. You have a fan."

"…Commander?" a confused face asked her superior. Commander Vinyàya nodded.

"A famous writer has noticed your escapades and decided to write a fiction book about you." Detective Short groaned and put her head in her hands, therefore missing the small smile that the Commander allowed on her face.

"Commander, please, is this really necessary?" Seeing the look on her superiors face clearly wasn't enough, so Vinyàya had to reinforce with _her _superiors.

"He donated a large amount of gold to the council to do this. The council is extremely happy about this, and when the council is happy, _I'm_ happy. Understand?"

"Alright, what exactly is he going to be doing?" Detective Short put a bit of hope in her voice. She hated publicity, so the fewer things this guy did, the happier _she _would be, whether her council and boss were happy or not.

"He will be shadowing you, from the beginning of your shift to the closing time at your office at 10:00. He will follow you to crime scenes and interrogations, you will answer any questions he asks you, and you will drive him with you in your car throughout Haven when on work business."

No such luck apparently. "D'arvit," Detective Short quietly cursed, hoping the Commander wouldn't pick it up.

Somehow, she did; but instead of getting angry, she only chuckled and asked out loud, "Short, I wouldn't complain, you don't even know who the guy is…"

Detective Short just grunted and ended her shift. She didn't need to know who the guy was; she just needed to evade him as much as possible until he got the picture. She headed home to her apartment and unlocked the door. Depositing her coat by the door, she drew up a hot bath and let her muscles relax, they would need it for tomorrow. After she was sated with the hot water, she put on her pajamas and did Pilates and Yoga for half an hour, letting all the tension sink out of system. After that, she decided to something she hadn't done for a whole year. She decided to call Fowl, see what he made of the situation. As she waited for him to answer, she schooled her features to not show excitement. She hadn't heard from him for over a year, and she missed him terribly, but she wouldn't show it. Finally, the tone went away and Artemis Fowl's face filled the screen.

"Holly?"

"It's Detective Short now, actually."

"Ahh, Detective, and now to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Can't we just talk?"

Artemis put on a hurt face before replying. "Just talk? You haven't answered my calls for over a year. I gave up Holly. Now you just decide to talk? What makes you want to talk now?"

Detective Short winced, she knew this was coming, but it hurt her none the less. "I'm sorry Artemis, truly, work kept me busy almost all the time. When I wasn't working, I was trying to sleep, seeing as I rarely got any."

Artemis considered this deeply, before accepting the answer with a nod. "So why call now?"

Detective Short told him the situation, about how she would be shadowed by a writer all day that would pester her about her job nonstop for a book. She expected Artemis to laugh at the situation, and she wasn't let down.

Artemis gently chuckled, and as he did, the screen moved, allowing a small portion of the room behind him to show. Detective Short was surprised to see it as a familiar looking wall, similar to one in an apartment building not far from hers, just across the road actually.

"Artemis, why does your room look like one of the Haven ones?"

Artemis quickly righted the screen so she couldn't see more, that was close. "I don't know what you're talking about; I am in an apartment in Ireland which I recently purchased."

Detective Short allowed the subject to change, but she didn't lose her suspicion. They talked about trivial things for another 10 minutes before Artemis had to go, he needed sleep for a big assignment the following morning. Detective Short bid him goodnight and decided to go to bed herself. As she lay back on her futon, she began to wonder if it really would be so bad having a writer shadow….

_Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047Logan1047_

Detective Short held her pillow closer; she didn't want to get up that morning. After 2 minutes, she gave up and started the inevitable. She took a shower, then put on a few suitable clothing pieces for fall and made her way to work. As she entered the department, she noticed it was blindingly empty. No signs of anybody even being there. Odd, she thought, Foaly and Mulch are usually here before I am. Then she heard it, a faint whispering coming from her office. She crept toward it; afraid of whom she would meet inside. As she finally reached her door, she took a deep breath, then made her face impassive and turned the knob. Inside there was Foaly and Commander Vinyàya, both trying their hardest not to smile happily. Detective Short saw through their façade and turned sideways to see Mulch holding a camera, not even bothering to hide his smile.

"What is so amusing, Diggums, and what's with the camera?"

She turned toward her Commander and Foaly, "What are you guys trying to hide?"

A silky, velvety voice answered at her back, freezing her in place. "Why Detective Short, what gave you the assumption I was hiding?" The voice was familiar, and yet unexpected. The logical part of Detective Short's brain sighed with impatience, it would be just like him to do that to her. Then the rest of her brain shoved the logical opinion out the window and her mouth dropped open as she stared at the 17 year old, newly fashioned, attractive, famous crime writer Artemis Fowl.

Seeing her frozen face in a hilarious position, Foaly and Commander Vinyàya started laughing and Mulch took the opportunity to take a photo. Detective Short would never live this down…


	2. Adjusting

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl or any associated characters. Hopefully, I can borrow a few of the quotes/scenes from Castle without too much anger, but if I get any complaints, I'll tone it down, or even just have to make my own.

Detective Short rode through traffic in her magna bike in such a way, you'd think she was furious. This was noted by Artemis Fowl as they avoided death by 3 feet as she pulled a j-turn at the last second. Holding onto her waist, he couldn't help but think that maybe this travel type wasn't so bad. His opinion changed again as they pulled up and over a large flying truck. Smelling her, he couldn't help but think of the "incident" they shared 2 and a half years ago in the gorilla cage. That kiss gave him so much indecision he didn't even know if he could think straight around Detective Short anymore. Did she like him or did the lie destroy everything they had built up?

Detective Short wasn't having any easier a time. First she spent the few hours of the morning being teased constantly by her co-workers about her reaction to Fowl showing up. Diggums posted the photo he took with a very mysterious caption attached that made her grow red and punch him in the face. Afterwards, she tried to feel guilty, but she just loved the sight of Diggums face being different shades of red, purple, and blue. Fortunately, her Commander and Foaly only spent a few minutes teasing her, and then they went back to work. That left her in the presence of novelist Artemis Fowl, the attractive seventeen year old who she hadn't seen in almost three years. He followed her around, his presence a drug to her. She smelled his scent, the surface still recognizable on him. His eyes still captivated her like they did 2 and half years ago. His body wasn't exactly fit, but he wasn't scrawny anymore either. Every time she thought of this, she mentally slapped herself. He lied to her, didn't trust her, and ended any possible relationship they could have had. Not to mention the fact that they were different ages, species, and heights, but those factors didn't seem to matter as much.

At 10:00 in the morning, after 3 hours of resisting Fowl, she received a call about a murder on the surface. Surface murders weren't much her thing, but this one was rumored to be done by a rogue fairy, which didn't care about being seen by humans. She had to wrap this one up fast before they were all over the internet.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Fowl's voice, "So where exactly are we going?"

Detective Short did her best to project her voice over the heavy traffic, "There has been a surface murder by a fairy and we've been specially requested to investigate." To keep him from asking her another question that would distract her from the fairy highway of death, she turned on the radio to a Mudman station, playing the song Skullcrusher Mountain by Jonathan Coultan.

_I'm so into you_

_But I'm way too smart for you_

_Even my henchmen think I'm crazy_

_I'm not surprised that you agree._

_If you could find some way to be_

_A little bit less afraid of me,_

_You'd see the voices that control me _

_From inside my head say I shouldn't kill you yet._

As the irony of the song hit the both of them, Fowl turned the radio off before he heard anymore. The two descended into an awkward silence that lasted the duration of the remaining trip. Arriving at the shuttle station, Fowl couldn't help but ask, "Do you think Butler thinks I'm crazy?"

Detective Short couldn't help herself, she started laughing. She had forgotten how Fowl could change her moods, make her laugh, understand her. She missed that terribly. But for two and a half years, they had not seen each other, and so they had to start back at the beginning of the chain of friendship, a clean slate. Well, not completely. Already, they reassumed the attitudes they would have had right around the time Opal was caught and arrested for the second time. That was a start.

As soon as they got into the shuttle and strapped into the cockpit, Fowl paled. He had suddenly remembered her driving, and how much he had to eat that morning. Detective Short grinned mercilessly; it was going to be a bumpy ride. It was time for payback about the event which occurred earlier that morning.

_Foaly analyzed the body that lay in front of him, concluding the time of death, noting where it was found, and apparently…_

"_It appears she had sex before she died."_

"_Sex?" Detective Short questioned without thinking._

_Fowl, seeing his chance to tease her, immediately replied before she could make a cover, "I'll explain how that works later." Whereupon Detective Short gaped and then slammed her foot into Fowl's shin. As he gasped in pain, the centaur continued his forensic investigation of the body and the facts that were sent in. _

The shuttle took off, and Detective Short felt herself relax. This was her domain, where she was the master, the shuttle her instrument. Every slight touch, every small turn, every sharp twist, she handled with mastery accumulated through hard work and practice. Fowl, on the other hand, was different. Combining the speed, the harsh turns, and the spins, this was a living nightmare he couldn't wait to escape. The only things he could focus on right now was breathing and keeping his breakfast down.

Finally, arriving maybe 15 minutes of torture later, they arrived at E1, the Tara Shuttle port. Not giving Fowl a chance to bow down and kiss the earth in joy for being alive, she marched at a considerable pace toward the exit hatch. As they stopped by the security desk to have authorization for a human and a neutrino, the guard on duty asked if she had anything to do that night. Detective Short was at a loss for words, and then remembered Fowl standing right next to her.

Risking a quick glance at his face, she was amused to find it displaying jealousy and anger. It would be fun to spite him, but she wasn't to go so far as date a random guy to do that. Instead, she simply replied, "Sorry, I'm taken."

With that, the elf and the human stepped out into the free air under the night sky, displaying hundreds of beautiful stars, shining out their patterns to those who might be watching from far away. Both sentient beings took a moment and enjoyed the show the universe was playing for them and everyone else. Thoroughly entertained, Detective Short cut the watching short and attached a pair of wings. Hooking Fowl on with a Moonbelt and a clipped piton, they flew off into the sky.

Flying 12 clicks northwest, they arrived in a bog that seemed very familiar. Fowl seemed to understand quickly, as he ran off toward an open field. Detective Short ran after, him shouting. Stupid Mud boy, didn't he understand they needed to investigate a crime scene? But noooo, he just runs off to some random open field that he sees…is that the ritual tree he kidnapped her at?

Realization dawns as she finally catches up to Fowl, who is at the base of the tree, holding some strange kind of device in his hand. Detective Short knew better than to ask. If Fowl was investigating something, you kept quiet, waiting until he told you he was done and what he found.

After a few more minutes, he had a smirk on his face and announced the news, "The last Ritual done here was by two beings, one pixie and one elf."

Detective Short was surprised, how did he know that?

Seeing her confused face and understanding her unasked question, he sighed and then explained. "This device here reads magic, and the small traces left when drawn in to the Ritual. You see, every time someone does the Ritual, they leave a small piece of identification that determines the amount of magic drawn in, what species they are, etc. Normally, this would be hard to acquire, but working with Foaly, we invented this, the Reader.

Detective Short took this in, mentally making a note to ask Foaly for one of those the next time she saw him, it could be useful in future investigations. Taking out a communicator, she asked Foaly to check all the recent customers at E1, Tara and find any pairs of elves and pixies. Walking back to the bog with this new information and a gut sense of anticipation, they arrived at the crime scene. What they found wasn't good at all.

Blood coated the ground, along with a few guts and bones. Whoever was killed had their insides ripped out of them. Detective Short had seen her share of nasty cases, but this easily made the top five. Hardening her core, she resisted the urge to turn around and puke in the nearby shrubbery. Fowl was different, or at least he appeared that way. His impassive expression he adopted when he was thinking or hiding something came out and adorned his face, creating the impression that he wasn't disturbed in the slightest by the atrocities in front of his person. With a smooth, graceful movement, he walked toward the center of the blood pile, where the dried blood was thickest and took a sample. Next he took out another invention, which caused a mixture of annoyance and gratefulness from Detective Short. She was annoyed because he had all this amazing tech and she didn't, but grateful because without it, the case would be moving three times slower than it was now.

As Fowl took out the device, it beeped once and pulled Fowl toward the shrubs about 14 feet in front of the crime scene. Reaching into a bush, he pulled out a dagger, about 17 inches long and 3 inches thick. Plenty enough to kill a human, let alone a fairy. Carefully holding it by the tip of the blade, he deposited it into a bag for examination by Foaly later. Turning to Detective Short, he asked, "Just what do you think happened here?"

**Good? Bad? OOC? If you have any problem or comment to make about this chapter, tell me in a review. Flames accepted, Constructive Criticism requested, Reviews are begged for. Make a comment. Your opinion is wanted.**

**Logan1047**


	3. Building Up

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl or any of the Castle puns/lines/ideas I use in here; I am just borrowing them. Please don't sue. **

_A/N: Sorry for not updating for a while, trying to conquer writers block and make longer chapters. Warning: this chapter may contain scary images. Not for the faint hearted or weak stomached. Enjoy:_

Detective Short normally wasn't the type of girl who one could easily be called feminine. On the contrary, her attempts to be masculine are what got her so far on the force, farther than any other female fairy before. At the moment however, she felt sick and angry with herself. Here she was, just sitting back not trying to puke and having Fowl do all the work. What kind of detective was she? Bending down and trying not to inhale the stench of inherent, bloody death; she looked around the crime scene and tried to find more evidence toward their potential killer(s). Carefully and methodically searching the bush, another detail caught her eye. Part of a fingernail was hanging on a branch tip. The killer could have broken their nail in the struggle to kill their Jane Doe victim. Trying to hide the knife, they could have left a piece of their nail on the bush. Picking the nail up timidly in her thickly gloved hands, she dumped it in another evidence bag.

Turning around, she noticed Fowl was less than a foot behind her, apparently looking over her shoulder at what she found. Discovering she was now less than a foot from him, faint voices echoed in her cranium, reminding her of all the longing she had felt for him as an adolescent. Staring into his eyes, impassive as they were, she tried and failed to get any clue as to how he felt at this moment. Unwilling to let temptations and wants take her over, she averted her gaze and started walking back toward the blood. If she had looked behind her, she might have noticed Fowl shake his head as though dislodging a terrible thought and run to catch up with her.

Searching for more clues, silence reigned between them for a few minutes, excepting the occasional calls of nature. Then Fowl, turning to the crime expert, asked a very vital question, "Detective Short?"

Hearing her name, she turned around and gave him a questioning look.

"When a person is bleeding to death, how quickly does the blood dry?"

Shuddering from a horrible memory about one of her cases from a year ago, she thought back and estimated, "At least a few hours, why?"

Pointing at the ground, he answered, "While their appears to be a large pile of blood over there, a completely separate trail of blood is going this way, as if the person was dragging themselves."

Detective Short sprang up, mind running through possibilities. The trail wasn't very wide, perhaps 1 and a half feet; about the size of a pixie. The crime happened less than 24 hours ago, and from the thickness of the trail, the wound might not be serious enough to be fatal for at least a few days, where infection might set in. Pulling out her Neutrino 4000 and motioning for Fowl to follow her, they crept silently through the shady woods.

Half an hour later of stealthy reconnaissance, they finally stumbled across their missing pixie. Well, at least the body of the pixie. Blank eyes shone brightly, reflecting the ancient starlight in their glory. Her hand was wrapped tightly around a communicator, disassembled and destroyed. Her leg was caught on some thorns from a branch that was pulled out of the adjacent shrubbery. Her face reflected an expression of horror and pain. In her other hand was an acorn, still holding tiny specks of fresh soil. Out of all that however, it wasn't the worst. Her abdominal area was constantly pulsing with the appearance of something still alive. Tentative, Detective Short took a long branch from the ground and poked it.

With a lightning fast explosion, the mound ripped open and exposed a Tunnel Blue spider to the world. Blood spurted from the stomach as the creature leaped out and charged Fowl; who barely had time for a yelp before it lunged for his face. Just as one razor sharp leg pierced his cheek, a Neutrino blast seared his face as it incinerated the spider, its ashes spreading to the four winds. Detective Short stood in an offensive stance; feet shoulder width apart, Neutrino up and steaming from the powerful shot. A snarl still adorned her face from the heat of the moment, but she still had only one thought running through her head: Protect Fowl at all costs.

Quickly and methodically snapping her eyes around the scene, she determined they were free from any threats before attending to Fowl. Timidly touching his cheek, she closed her eyes and concentrated, letting her magic flow from her body into her fingertips. Feeling its electricity spike along her arm, she directed the current onto his face, whispering "heal" in Gnommish, watching as the enchanting blue sparks clung to his face and sunk into his wound. Speeding up the cells regeneration, his skin reformed in a matter of seconds rather than 2 weeks at least. Finding their work done, the sparks receded, fading until only a faint blue glow emanated from the handsome face of Artemis Fowl the second.

Detective Short knew she shouldn't be thinking this, that it wasn't right, that they could never be together; but at the moment, looking into his beautiful dichromatic eyes, she found she couldn't care less. Feelings she had buried beneath minimal contact and work began surfacing again, and try as she might, she couldn't repress them. Memories played themselves through her head like a slideshow, showing her all the times they had been together: Smiling, laughing, hugging, saving the world, comforting, consoling, punching, touching, kissing…

Fowl was getting a bit confused here. He clearly thought that he had blown his chance to ever be with the beauteous captain…sorry Detective, and here she was: holding his cheek and her eyes glazing over. A smile conquered her normally blank face, and she unconsciously moved closer to him. Fowl had been healed for at least 3 minutes, but here she was still holding his cheek and getting closer. His hormones acted up, telling him to take the chance while he still could, to bend down and press his lips to her soft, cherubic ones. To claim her as his and never let her go again, beg her to stay with him forever. Scenarios began playing out in his imagination, them laughing over a funny joke told over a dinner date, him bending on one knee and taking out a beautiful sapphire and emerald ring to propose to the most beautiful woman alive, kissing her in front of the altar, feeling the new ring upon her finger and liking the touch of it, hearing her scream his name as he takes her again and again and again….

Fowl shook his head and gently pulled the Detectives hand off his cheek. He can't take advantage of her again. He had nearly lost her once before and he couldn't bear for that to happen ever again. Taking a step back and struggling to keep an impassive face and tone, he whispered, "Detective?"

Detective Short was shaken out of her reveries by his movement and whisper. Looking up at him, she mentally scolded herself. She had lost control, and couldn't allow that to happen again. Shaking her head as well, she returned her attention to the crime scene. Taking out a Glow Stick, she bent down and searched the body for any other oddities while marking down the Tunnel Blue spider and everything else she was holding. After depositing the communicator, the acorn, and taking a sample of the blood. Detective Short was about to report where the new body was and leave when something caught her eye, or rather the pixies eyes.

The pupil had a ragged look, often adorning individuals attacked by tiny sclera fish, not common anywhere near Ireland, or from being mesmered countless times, with it being most likely the latter. Taking a note of it, she motioned for Fowl to follow her, trying not to make eye contact with the teenager. She managed to do this for about a second, then snapped her peripheral vision and stopped blatantly with outright shock and disbelief. His face was no longer impassive, but rather a bit weary and depressed. That look in his eyes, so raw, so primal, was it…longing?

Sensing her watching him, he quickly rearranged his façade, hoping she hadn't seen through him in his brief vulnerability. How cruel, he was thinking, was life; to show him the most extravagant item in the universe and then leave it a fingerbreadth out of his reach? It was maddening, slowly driving dark thoughts into his intelligent brain, thoughts he shouldn't be having. He _shouldn't_ ignore her personal space and force himself upon her. He _shouldn't _break into her apartment at night and take her with him, away from the rest of the world. Heck, he _shouldn't _even proclaim his intense longing and love for her, as the only thing it would do is make things harder between, even if their was the smallest chance she felt the same way. But try as he might, the thoughts broke through his barrier of cold professionalism and pierced deep into his imagination. Turning his gaze to the ground, he bitterly cursed irony and fate. No one toys with a Fowl and gets away with it! But how can you exact revenge on a universal force of nature?

Normally, Artemis Fowl the second was the epitome of emotionless. Normally, he was the very definition of calm, cool, and collected. But after experiencing the crush of multiple deep emotions, even his mask shattered under the strain. An unusual wetness built up in his eyes. The water droplets began to accumulate, combining into bigger and bigger drops until at last his eyes couldn't hold them and they fall down his face. His breathing became irregular, and as he tried to regulate it back to normal, a shudder passed through him, telling him his body needed a deep breath. Taking one in, his immediate exhale was followed by a sort of hiccup, the result of holding in to much. By and by, he was soon releasing dreadful sobs and falling to the ground in depression.

As soon as she heard the hiccup, Detective Short turned her head, daring enough to look at Fowl to see what the matter was. To her eternal surprise, Fowl was actually crying. Not just regular tears, but now they were knees on the ground heartfelt sobs. Feeling compassionate and worried for her friend, she got onto her knees, finding herself around the same height at this level and gently hugged him. Pulling his head onto her shoulder, she patted his back and caressed the back of his head with light strokes through his silky smooth hair. Putting her mouth next to his ear, she put her mouth next to his ear and softly whispered, "Artemis, what's wrong?"

Feeling her strokes, pats, and caring words, the heat of her body aligned with his, her heartbeat synchronizing with his, he glared up at the sky over her shoulder, feeling his rage and sadness grow infinitely more. This was the ultimate torture, far worse than any physical torture could ever be. To have her right here in his arms, unable to do what he wanted, what he desired, no, what he _needed!_ Irony was now smacking him in the face as he cried at the loss of no longer being able to be with the girl who was now hugging him and letting him cry on her.

Detective Short waited for an answer, and after a few minutes, his crying gradually degraded into an occasional hiccup. His arms held her close, protectively, far more than a simple hug one might give to a friend. As he finally lifted his face up to hers, he took a deep breath, and whispered the four words that forever moved them beyond the level of only friends. "Holly," he whispered, looking fully and directly into her anticipating eyes, "I love you."

Feeling her own heart erratically pick up its pace, her breathing picked up and she widened her eyes. Seeing through her own reactions, a realization collided with her that brought up immense curiosity. Why would he cry over that?

He seemed to either understand her unasked question, or he just felt like talking more to her, but he continued nonetheless. "But I've hurt you so much. So much that I fear that it's a struggle for you to even have me as a friend. But after Rathdown Park, I can't just have you as a friend anymore. I can't settle for less than what you gave me. But even if there was the miniscule chance that you liked me back, how on or under earth could we make such a situation work?"

There. He said it. Looking into her eyes for a few moments before realizing she probably was going to reject him and leave him and his heart here on the ground. Hanging his head, he felt the tears begin to well up again.

Detective Short felt a smile being painted on her face. He liked her back, just as she liked him. True, it had a few complications, but so did every couple. They could work it out. Together. She was broken out of her thoughts by him speaking again.

"I'm guessing by your silence that you probably now hate me and never want to see me again." His tone was miserable, and he slowly began rising up to walk away, back to Fowl Manor to live out the rest of his agonized life in misery without –

Detective Short registered his words and realized that she hadn't said a thing. He must think I'm giving him the silent treatment to make him go away. Acting quickly, she pulled him back down, and, quickly enjoying the look of surprise adorning his face, pressed her lips to his tear stained ones.

**Sorry if this is going a bit fast, but I needed to shove this out of the way for the rest of the story. Review, please. Just hit the wondrous green button of mystery below. It isn't hard…**


	4. Teasing

**Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl or Castle; I am simply borrowing them to make my fic. Please don't sue…**

"Fowl. Fowl? Fowl!"

Artemis snapped to attention, shaking his head from the yelling in his ear. Detective Short was waving her hand in his face, an annoyed expression adorning her face. Glancing around, Artemis noticed that Holly was still standing next to the pixies corpse, still emitting a disgusting scent of putrefaction.

"Did you hear me Fowl? I said the pixie's been mesmerized."

Looking around in confusion, Artemis hurriedly wrote it down and then went back to contemplating what just happened. He could have sworn that, just a second ago, Detective Short was cradling his sobbing form, pressing her lips against his tear-stained ones. The next second, she was on her feet, yelling in his ear about not paying attention. Stupid hormones, giving him outrageous fantasies that were never likely to come true.

They observed the crime scene for a few more minutes, looking for clues, but finding none. The killer was quite neat, leaving nothing behind that they hadn't found. Giving up, they decided to head home for lunch. As they touched down back at the Tara shuttle port, Artemis recalled Detective Short telling a guard here that she was taken. Curious, he questioned her, "Do you remember what you told that guard earlier, about you being taken?"

Her foot faltering for a split second, she struggled to control her facial features as she answered his question. "Yeah, why?"

"Are you?"

Stopping completely in her tracks, she turned toward him, her left eyebrow raised slightly in a suggestive manner, as she arranged her tone into that of teasing. "Why, Fowl, are you asking me out?"

Artemis felt his face heat up slightly at her question, answering it with an averted gaze. "Er…well…I…n-not really, no, just wondering."

Detective Short smirked, thoroughly seeing right through his horrible cover. Deciding to tease him just a small bit more for entertainment (this beat PPTV by a long shot) she sidled up to him in a faux-seductive walk, swinging her hips enthusiastically. As she knew he would, he couldn't help but stare. Reaching him, she pulled his face down to be within a few inches of her own, a pout forming on her cherubic lips. "Are you sure?" she whispered huskily, sending shivers down his spine.

Artemis felt his face light up on fire. Sure, a few girls on the surface teased him, but none of them went to this caliber. This was screaming sexual tension, and it took his entire arsenal of will power not to close the few inches between them and…

Coughing lightly, Artemis stepped back and quietly muttered, "We should get going, the next public shuttle leaves in a few minutes."

Following him quietly, Detective Short was quietly chuckling behind him. Yet another reason why it was great to have Fowl back, the teasing was far more fun than anything else she had done for a long time.

As they walked to Spud's Spud Emporium, which Detective Short claimed was the best restaurant within walking distance of the LEP headquarters, she couldn't help but notice how Artemis stared at one particular elf whose "chest" was attracting the male population of the street. Rolling her eyes, Detective Short pulled Fowl along by the collar, asking, "How can you possibly be attracted by those when they are so obviously fake."

Sensing her jealousy, Artemis grinned. "Santa's not real, but we still enjoy opening his presents." Finding no suitable come back, Detective Short growled as she dragged him behind her into the restaurant.

After finding a suitable booth, they sat down, waiting for a waiter/waitress. Deciding upon their entrees, Artemis selected the fettuccine alfredo with chicken fingers, while Detective Short settled upon a light salad and some grilled beans. Using this social time to catch up, they chatted how their lives had been for the past few years without the other, until Artemis picked up a chicken finger and poked it at her face, saying, "At least you didn't have to avoid crazy stalkers who kept mobbing me every time I left the house."

His horrible experience with fans had been lost on Detective Short, who had been focused on the meat as soon as it entered her personal space. Closing her eyes and trying to not to breath its putrid scent, she barely refrained from shouting at Fowl. "Get that piece of meat out of my face."

Artemis frowned. "It's not in your face, it's in my hand."

Letting out a frustrated breath, she corrected herself. "Get that piece of meat in your hand out of my face."

Artemis here raised an eyebrow. "Why? It's just a piece of meat." Wiggling it in front of her, he chuckled lightly. "Are you afraid of a dead corpse of an animal, Detective?"

Detective Short had passed her breaking point. Smacking the piece of meat out of his hand, she jumped across the booth right into his face, pulled him out onto the floor, and started beating the crap out of him. With every punch, he protested.

"I."

Punch

"Really."

Punch

"Don't."

Punch

"See."

Punch

"Why."

Punch

"This."

Punch

"Is."

Punch

"Necessary."

SLAM!!

Without noticing that everyone in the diner had stopped whatever they were doing and were staring at them, Detective Short whispered a serious death threat into Fowl's ear.

"The next time you shove a piece of meat in my face, I'll make sure you're carted to Haven General on the ambulance. Understood."

Trying to combat the ill-illusive migraine inevitably coming his way, he nodded.

"Good," she growled. What she didn't see, however, was that as soon as her back had turned, a rush of blue sparks had come from Fowl's face and healed his bruises and headache before they even formed. Shaking his head, he lifted himself from the ground, brushed himself off, and said, "Since I just got the crap beaten out of me, I will be at home for a few hours before I feel safe enough to work with you again. "

Without even turning, she raised her middle finger behind her, and as everyone knows, there is no comeback to the F-bomb.

While Fowl was resting in his lotus position, Esmeralda, the "nanny" he hired to clean his messes for him, came in. "Telephone call from Ms. Short."

Rousing himself, he took a deep breath and accepted the phone. Holding it to his ear, he whispered, "Hello?"

"Fowl? Is that you? Why are you whispering?"

Returning his tone back to normal, he responded. "Sorry Detective, force of habit. What can I do for you?"

"Foaly got a few matches from the Tara shuttle port that might match, he wants you and your genius brain to come down and help him whittle them down."

"I don't know, Detective, I am quite busy down here at my flat, just sitting here, looking through my small collection of gnommish books."

"Fowl! Just get down here before I make you!"

"Yes Holly."

Approximately fifteen minutes later, Fowl stood in the operations booth, next to Foaly and Detective Short.

"Well, our first clue is that both bodies were undeniably female, so that rids us of all male passengers. Next, we can get rid of all species that aren't elves or pixies. That leaves us with…3 elves and 5 pixies. "

Foaly chose this moment to speak. "I take it you took DNA from both victims?"

Fowl looked up. "Yes, are you suggesting run their DNA through the system?"

Foaly grimaced. Unfortunately not. The only way to access governmental records is to have the fingerprint of a councilman next to the access point, or you can't get in. Considering that half the LEP are waiting for prints, it could take from a few days to a few weeks."

Fowl took out his modified communicator. "Well, I never was one much for rules." Quickly, he dialed a number too fast for Foaly or Detective Short to follow, and waited for a few seconds until…

"Hey Jackie. Yeah, is Cahartez there? I need to speak to him."

Walking out of the room, he left Foaly and Detective Short in awe. Deciding now was the time to comment, Foaly couldn't help but say, "Fowl never really was one for following the rules."

As Fowl came back, he sat smugly in his seat again, saying, "You will have your DNA access, in one hour."

Detective Short took him aside. "Look Fowl, we have half the LEP waiting for DNA access, you can't just jump the line."

Fowl put on a teasing tone while he looked her right in the eye. "Ooh, I think someone is jealous."

Detective Short immediately pulled up some defensive walls. "I am not jealous."

Fowl smirked. "No, I get it. I can call the councilmen, and you can't."

Detective Short tried another angle. "We have procedure. Protocol."

Fowl would have none of it. "Yeah, and you always stop at a red light, and you never bend the rules in any situation."

Detective Short couldn't say anything.


End file.
